Rough Seas Make Good Sailors
by AccioNightlock
Summary: The story of the 70th Hunger Games where Finnick is Annie's mentor. Contains violence/scenes of a sexual nature in future chapters.
1. The Reaping

**Hey, this is my first attempt at a fanfic so please let me know what you think :) Depending on the feedback I'll publish the rest of the chapters at a later date. Thanks for reading!  
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****My eyes flicker, adjusting to the sunlight streaming through the open window. I smell the fresh sea air, its strong scent pulling me from the nightmares that drown me each night. The nightmares may have actually occurred around 5 years ago now, but that doesn't stop them from returning to me nightly. The nightmare in question? I am in a field - trident in one hand, net in the other – looking down on the boy tribute from district 7. My first kill. My first of many in the arena.

I look around my familiar room, wishing nothing more than to spend my day breathing in the salty air and perhaps even getting to fish for a while. But I know that both of these options are unreasonable considering what day it is. Today is the reaping for the 70th Hunger Games and, being a mentor, I am expected to make an appearance. Expected to meet the girl and boy who will most likely die in the next few weeks. I don't know what's worse, the situation at hand or the fact I am getting used to it – this being my fifth year of mentoring.  
I lay in bed for as long as I can possibly allow – no prep team comes to prepare me for the cameras. I guess I'm considered camera ready without the aid of a prep team. A suit has been laid out for me though, a sea green shirt with some grey suit trousers. Not the worst outfit I've ever had to wear for the cameras.  
I leave my house and walk across the Victors Village to get Mags, my own mentor from my time in the Hunger Games. We are not the only victors here, considering that we are a career district, but old Mags is definitely my favourite. She is waiting for me at her door, somehow managing to shake her prep team so we can walk to the town hall together. We tend not to speak on Reaping Day, which suits us both fine – Mags is one of the only people I don't have to try and openly charm. We reach the town hall, with a comfortable silence still resting between us, until we are met at the door by Volumnia, the escort for District 4. She greets me with enthusiasm, stating excitedly in her thick Capitol accent about how she feels this Hunger Game will be the best ever and so on. That accent – I don't think I will ever be used to the Capitol accent. I return her greeting politely, adding a smile that brings colour to her already heavily painted cheeks. My effect on woman of the Capitol, I don't think it will ever wear out.

We make our way out onto the staging that has sprung up over night in front of the town hall, taking our places in a number of seats set out for us. In front of us is every 12-18 year old in district 4, waiting to see which of them will be taken from their home and sent to the Capitol to fight, and perhaps die. Volumnia takes the microphone, introducing the video "all the way from the Capitol" that is shown every year, to remind these children why they are being sacrificed. The voice of President Snow narrating the video rings out through, it would seem the whole district. I try to ignore it, vomit rising in my throat as my mind processes it, remembering our last conversation, and what it had cost me, and what it had lead too – No. I stop the thoughts. I'll deal with them in the Capitol. I can't break down here, not with potential tributes watching.

The video ends, and I release a sigh. Too loud. Mags turns her head, squinting her eyes at me. I mouth to her some excuse about the temperature, and she turns back to her original position – if she knows I'm lying she pretends otherwise. Volumnia is back at the microphone, announcing "ladies first". Her hand reaches into the first of the two bowls beside her and she pulls out a white piece of folded card, the world seems to be holding in a collected breath. "Annie Cresta" her strong Capitol accent carries the name over the crowd and a small girl steps forward. She starts to walk towards the stage, her face impossible to read. I guess she is in shock. She reaches the stage and stands awkwardly beside Volumnia, playing with a strand of her long brown hair – I'm guessing this is a nervous habit.  
Volumnia now reaches into the second bowl "And now, our male tribute."And her hand withdraws from the bowl with another piece of folded card. "Zayle Boyle." A strong looking boy, with wavy blonde hair steps forward – out of our two tributes he is the one I would put money on becoming this year's Victor. He stands on the stage beside Annie, offering her a small smile. Smiling in this situation? He must be trying to comfort her. The remaining crowd give their applause while Annie and Zayle are lead into the Town Hall by their new escort. Mags and I follow, heading for the main room of the Building so we can discuss the new tributes while they say their goodbyes to the families waiting for them.

I help Mags to a seat, starting my analysis of each of the tributes.  
"The boy, Zayle? He seems strong, good look, probably handy with a spear or a net at least. He seems like our best chance."  
"No." Her response takes me aback for a second. "Don't overlook that girl, she can weave a net faster than anyone I've ever seen and she is a fair good swimmer, strong too. I've seen her down at the docks with her father. My guess is she will be overlooked by the other tributes, which could give her an edge."  
I take in this new information, trying to match up this description to the small girl I seen on the stage. She didn't look like someone who could possess such qualities; her stature alone shouted out that she needed protection, reflected in the fact that Zayle offered her comfort with his smile. But I take Mags opinion on board, hoping that Annie does indeed have these skills that could be crucial to her survival over the next few weeks.  
Volumnia joins us, sharing her opinion on Zayle and Annie. She seems to have overlooked Annie too, only stating that she was an exceptionally pretty girl before babbling on about how they could present Zayle at his interview. She stops when we are joined by the tributes, and instead starts worrying over her schedule that she has planned to the very last second, scooting us all towards the train that will take us to the Capitol.


	2. The Journey to the Capitol

**Decided to add the Second Chapter because I can't stop writing and a few of you have added this to your favourites! Please leave me some reviews, thanks for reading!**

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I find my usual room on the train, changing my shirt into something brighter, more suiting to the fashion found in the Capitol while still staying simple enough to show I'm from a District. Not that people aren't aware of that. I'm the most famous Victor there has been for a while, for obvious reasons. My good looks naturally appealed to the people of the Capitol, earning me a fair share of attention and gifts while I was in the Hunger Games, these gifts were necessary for my victory. My thoughts drift to how the people of the Capitol view me as being so desirable, how they are so willing to pay anything to spend some time with me. No. I stop the thoughts again. I have tributes to help, tributes that are relying on me to bring one of them back alive.  
I make my way to the dining room cart where I find Mags in conversation with Annie. Mags has got Annie laughing over some joke that I can't hear and I can't help but admire them both for being so positive in such a negative situation. I leave the room without notice, heading to find Zayle so I can get a better idea of his skills and personality.

I find him at the very back of the train, looking out the large windows as we speed through District 4. I feel like I've interrupted some kind of private moment, his goodbye to his home. I turn to leave when I hear him speak "Finnick?"  
"Hey Zayle, I was just looking for you so we can go speak with Mags and Annie, start planning strategy?" He looks at me, tears are starting to fill his eyes and I'm starting to feel uncomfortable. This is what Mags is for. Zayle makes a noise, like he's just choking back the tears and says in a voice, barely above a whisper "Just bring one of us home ok?"  
I don't know what to say. I think I manage to nod my head. I leave the room, giving him to time to calm down before he joins the rest of us.  
I walk back to the dining cart, my head hurting. Both of my tributes seem all wrong for the Games – too soft, too caring. The problem with this is everyone knows not one decent person has ever won the games. I should know that.

I start to quicken my pace, willing my feet to move faster so I can meet my second tribute. I picture her in my head - laughing with Mags, playing nervously with her hair on stage. I need to find out ways I can help bring this girl home. I reach the dining room cart, seeing Volumnia has now joined the pair, and take a seat beside Mags.  
"Zayle will be here soon, he's just…" I don't know what to say, He's just crying? Saying goodbye to his district?  
"At the toilet." Says Zayle from behind me, he calmed down quicker than I thought. He takes the seat across from me, beside Annie and smiles at her. This time she returns the smile. We all sit and talk about skills and traits that could be useful in the Games and it's clear from the start that the two plan to be allies in the arena. I learn that Zayle is indeed skilled with a spear and net and has practice with knives from gutting fish while Annie is skilled in finding edible plants, making nets and knows more than the basics in first aid. It's a good thing that they are going to be allies then – together they have what it takes to survive in the arena, divided they both won't last long.  
Mags soon leaves to go to bed, saying she wants to get an hour or two's sleep before we get to the Capitol. She won't sleep. I think she just wants some time to prepare herself. I don't know any past victor that deals with going back to the Capitol well – it forces us to relive our own time in the Games. I wonder if I should start to do the same – prepare. But I can't physically bring myself to leave the room; I'd rather just keep trying to block out everything about the Capitol. Even now though, I feel the familiar thoughts creeping into my mind, who will I be with tonight? What will they give me in return?  
"Finnick?" A voice brings me back. "Are you still with us?" It's Annie. She's turning her head so quickly it's almost comical, looking at me then looking to Volumnia for assistance.  
"Sorry, daydreaming." I manage to say. "What were we talking about?" Volumnia rapidly moves the conversation forward, I tune out as she starts going through her schedule again, running through every detail of our lives from now until, well until we die it seems. She asks my opinion at regular intervals, but the most I manage is a nod of the head – I'm too exhausted to use the charm I usually treat her with. All my energy is being used to block out what I'm dreading, but it doesn't seem to be working.  
Volumnia starts with a panic when she realises she hasn't scheduled in enough time for prep or training or something else that my mind just can't process right now and she leaves the room with a hurry. Annie and Zayle sit contently talking between themselves, oblivious to the battle going on in my mind as I try to block out the thoughts that have been growing stronger as we get ever closer to the Capitol. The next time I turn to observe the pair Zayle has left and Annie sits on her own, silently watching me.  
"Where's Zayle gone?" I ask, somehow managing to keep my voice casual, steady.  
"To the bathroom, I think he was starting to get nervous. Though he didn't say that" And she smiles. And I can't help but smile back.  
"Are you nervous, Annie?" My voice is now back to normal, the war in my head as calmed slightly, though I still feel its constant presence.  
"Not as nervous as you seem Finnick" And with that, she gets up and leaves. I don't know what to make of her parting words but I know I can't just let her exit the conversation after a statement like that so I get up and follow her.

"Annie? ANNIE CRESTA YOU WAIT RIGHT THERE." And I'm running to get this girl, the first time in my life that I, Finnick Odair, have had to run after a girl.  
"What?" She smiles sweetly, innocently, but her last statement hints at a hidden depth to this girl.  
"What did you mean, back there? Why would I be nervous?" I really want to ask her what she knows and how she knows it but I can't bring myself to say those words.  
"I don't know, you just seem nervous. You kept ruffling your hair and your eye…" She pauses. Embarrassed. "It was twitching, and my mother always says she can tell when I'm nervous because of my eye." So she doesn't know anything.  
I drop my voice, perhaps lower than necessary, but I can't help but feel like I am being constantly observed when I'm near anything to do with the Capitol. "I just don't like the Capitol much."  
"I can understand why." She pats me on the shoulder, and she is gone again. No questions asked, no judgemental tone in her voice. Just genuine sympathy. And that's when I know I have no chance of bringing Annie Cresta back to her family. She is too good for these Games. Kind, caring, sympathetic – every quality that every victor lacks. I'm not saying that we are all evil, but I'm saying that a victor has to be capable of murder. And expecting this girl to murder someone is the equivalent of waiting for a rabbit to take down a lion.  
Zayle. He's the one that's coming home. He could kill. He'll probably be good at it after some training. I know I have a good chance at bringing one of them home, my first victor.

Suddenly, the sun streaming through the window is blocked and we are travelling through darkness. My mind goes in to overdrive and this time I can't stop the vomit from rising, I'm running to the toilet trying to hold it for a few seconds longer – no one can see this moment of weakness. Because I know where this darkness stops, where the end of this tunnel leads us to – The Capitol.


	3. The Tribute Parade

**Finally finished the third chapter! Sorry for any mistakes but I've just finished it and its 1:30am in the morning here. I hope you guys enjoy it :)  
Thanks for reading! Feedback?**

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Volumnia herds us all towards the train doors, straightening Zayle's shirt, straightening my shirt and smoothing down Annie's wild, brown curls whilst murmuring under her breath about "First impressions" and "the waiting camera's".  
I let out a deep breath. Show time. And the train stops, the doors open and we are met by a colourful crowd of Capitol residents and camera crews. My act starts from the moment the doors have slid fully open – I smile, I wave, and I wink at a select few. I am charming. I am desirable. I am Finnick Odair. And I hate it more than I can explain.

Mags joins me later at the Remake Centre – never one for the cameras she somehow managed to sneak off one of the other train doors and get here. That woman will never fail to impress me. Our tributes are somewhere else in the building, being remade to Capitol standards. This usually involves washing, waxing, make-up and then the outfits they'll have to wear for the opening ceremonies.  
This is usually where the tributes have to make good first impressions in order to get a good backing from sponsors but my tributes won't have to worry about that. Because I am so desirable here, and people will do anything for my time. I haven't told my tributes this though, I still want them to try and make an impression on their own.  
Mags has fallen asleep on one of the plush velvet chairs in the room and I search for a blanket to cover her. This woman is the main reason I survived the Hunger Games, and she is the main reason I have survived every trip to the Capitol since. She is the only person I truly trust and the only person outside of my parents who knows the real Finnick Odair. She mutters in her sleep and a flash of fear crosses her face – She was a victor long before I was born yet she is still plagued by her own nightmares. I sit in the chair beside her, grabbing her hand and whisper soothing words to her. Over the past 5 years, I've seen her fall to the symptoms of old age, she sleeps more, she mumbles over her words sometimes and her sight has been deteriorating somewhat. But despite all of this she hasn't given up on helping me or the new tributes each year and I really don't know how she does it.

* * *

I'm standing in the middle of a forest; adrenaline is coursing through my body pushing me towards the girl from district 2. My trident meets the soft flesh of her stomach and a cannon goes off. I pull my trident free and keep running, trying to avoid the rest of the career pack that I refused to join but I know they are close, I can almost feel their hands reaching for me, I turn, trident raised. But someone is tapping my shoulder, shaking me "Get up, Finnick!"

* * *

My eyes open. Volumnia is standing over me, her schedule in hand and tutting under her breath. "We are going to miss the tribute parade unless you get up right now."  
"Where's Mags?" I yawn. But then I see her standing by the door and I know we really have to leave if Mags has managed to get up. I stretch myself out and follow Mags out the door, gushing my apologies to Volumnia as we go.

Zayle and Annie are already here, in costume. I have to stifle a laugh when I notice the looks on both of their faces – to say they are unimpressed by their stylists choice of costume would be the biggest understatement of the century. Personally, I see nothing wrong with the costumes, but then I am very used to having skin exposed to impress the Capitol audience.  
Zayle wears nothing more than a pair of tight fitting blue shorts and a necklace made of seashells while Annie is dressed in some kind of seashell top and seaweed skirt. Both have blue powder shimmered over their bodies and wear headdresses of flowing sea green fabric, giving the impression that they are surrounded by water. The overall affect isn't unpleasant and after the stylists choices in previous Games it's more than I could have hoped for. Volumnia compliments them both in her own unique way, making comments on things that I suppose neither tribute really cares about – like Zayle's cheekbones and Annie's hips. I don't get it either, it must be a Capitol thing.

The opening music begins and Zayle helps Annie up into the chariot and then climbs up himself. We all shout last bits of advice to them and watch as they follow the chariot carrying the district 3 tributes. As the chariot moves the light fabric of the headdresses flow out behind them and they really are beautiful – they could probably get enough sponsors without my added help.  
I feel Mags arm on the crook of my elbow as she pulls me towards the lift that will lead to the area of seating at the city circle. We arrive and take our seats in enough time to see our tributes chariot entering the circle. They are laughing together and waving to the crowd, previous ill thoughts about their costumes have been drowned out by the sheer volume of the crowd. The rest of the chariots pull into the circle and I'm given a chance to compare Zayle and Annie to the competition. Zayle is muscular but he is nothing compared to the boys, no – grown men, that can be seen in the first and second chariots. Annie is beautiful but this is paled in comparison to the girl in the first chariot with her see-through, shimmering dress and long blonde hair. My tributes are enough to be remembered by sponsors yet also enough to be overlooked by the competition around them, perfect.

President Snow is now standing at the balcony, welcoming the tributes. I can feel the vomit in the back of my throat again but I can't do that, not here. I reach out for Mags, and her hand is already waiting for mine. I look at her old, wrinkled face that seems to age another 10 years as she mouths to me "You are stronger than this". I squeeze her hand in thanks but do not let it go. She was technically supposed to give up her role as my mentor 5 years ago when my victory tour ended, but she never stopped – and I can never thank her enough for that. The taste of vomit disappears as I watch Zayle and Annie. I am stronger than this, Mags is right, and I have to keep being strong for my tributes. Snow finishes his speech and the National Anthem starts up as the chariots take all 24 tributes into the training centre.


	4. The First Night In the Capitol

**Sorry this chapter took so long, but I've been ill! Oh, this chapter is also ~slightly sexual, so apologies if it makes anyone uncomfortable. But then again, it's Finnick. So what did you expect? :)  
Thanks to all of you that have added this story to your favourites. Please leave me some reviews, thanks for reading!**

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I leave my room quickly, hoping to dart from the fourth floor of the Training Centre before anyone tries to stop me. I manage to get to the lift before I notice her, sitting watching me quietly. Mags.  
She gets up from the couch with some effort and makes her way towards me, she pulls me in for a hug and whispers "Don't worry, they won't know you've left" and then makes her way back to the couch. The fact she understands where I'm going and what I'm going to do isn't brought up between us because it will make it all the more harder for me to leave. And it's been this way for the past 2 years, ever since I turned 16. She was the first person I told, after the conversation with President Snow. She's the only person I've told since.

I make my way out of the Training Centre and enter the waiting car. I'm driven through the streets of the Capitol where the party is still continuing late into the night. I catch glimpses of Annie and Zayle and all of the other tributes as the parade is continuously played on giant screens. The sight of them calms me, this is for them. The vomit stays down and I start to relax – you've done this before Finnick, this is nothing.  
The car stops outside out of a large house and an avox waits for me at the door. She leads me to a door, bows and leaves. I smile after her and turn to the door, slow breaths – I can do this. I open the door to find a room, mostly taken up by a large, golden bed. I ignore the bed, slight shivers running through me and make my way towards the seating beside the window.

A woman enters, her naked skin and hair both dyed a glittering bronze colour – giving the appearance that she is made of some kind of metal. She sits down on my lap, her unnatural blue eyes bore into mine as she purrs in my ear "Elektra, call me Elektra."  
"Hello Elektra." I whisper back, planting a number of small kisses from her ear, down her neck. I feel her shudder in my arms.  
"I hear you take favour with secrets, Mr Odair." Her voice is still a purr, although she seems to have lost that air of confidence she previously carried.  
"Usually. But not at this current moment." I continue further down with my kisses, trailing her back.  
"Well what can I do for you?"  
"Not for me, for my tributes. They need some sponsors, Elektra." At the sound of her name she lets out a soft moan. She tilts my head back up to meet her own and presses her lips tightly against mine. I grab her round the waist and carry her to the bed, trying to clearing my mind of everything but the task at hand.

And this is how you get sponsors in the Capitol. I wonder if Zayle will have this same fate if I manage to bring him back. Would he confine in me the same way I still confine in Mags?  
These thoughts run through my head as I have my shirt ripped off by this Elektra. She is not the worst person I've been with here in the Capitol but that doesn't make the experience any more pleasant. Yes, I get to have woman throw themselves at me, while they pay for the experience but that doesn't change the fact I'm only being used. Used by these woman. Used by President Snow to keep the capitol residents happy. I wonder what it's like to have someone love you for something other than your body. I wonder if sex is different when you aren't being paid for it. It must be.

I can feel Elektra's naked body straddle my own and I know that I'm not paying her as much attention as I should be. I'm getting lost in my thoughts and I can't. I need to shut my brain down. And I do, my last thoughts being of Zayle and Annie, stuck in the arena waiting for sponsors that I will provide them. My body goes into autopilot as I grab Elektra and roll her underneath me, kissing every part of her body I can reach.

* * *

It's nearly 5 in the morning by the time I've entered the lift to take me to our floor of the training centre. My plan is to take a shower, get some sleep maybe, before our first breakfast as a team. I reach the living room, expecting it to be empty. But it isn't. Sitting at the window, watching the streets of the Capitol below, is Annie. She must have made her way in here after Mags left. I freeze. She hasn't noticed me. Hopefully I can get past without her turning round. I start to turn and walk towards my room.

"Finnick?" I turn back round to face her; maybe I can charm her with some excuse about where I've been.  
"Oh Annie, I didn't see you there. Why are you up at this time?" And I flash my best smile.  
"The better question is why are you sneaking in at 5 in the morning?" She looks at me and anger darkens her face - no charming smile could change that look. "You know I heard about your reputation but I didn't think you would be low enough to sneak out the night before our first day of training. You are disgusting." And with that she opens the balcony door and goes outside.

She's right. I am disgusting, but it's not my fault really. Her words confirm everything I already feel about myself. I make my way into my room, throwing my clothes off as I go. I jump in the shower and punch the buttons that will give me the hottest, strongest shower possible – I want to burn the shame and smell of sex off my skin. I am disgusting. I am good for nothing but my body. I am Finnick Odair. And I hate it more than I can explain.

I get out the shower and open the drawers, pulling on the first pair of pyjama bottoms I find. My skin burns from the hot shower, I need to get outside for some air. I've opened the balcony door before I realise that Annie is still there, in the corner of the garden. I go outside regardless; the air feels far too good on my skin to consider any other option. I sit on the bench just beside the door, looking out at the sunrise over the capitol. I watch the sunrise for some time as the air continues to cool my burned skin back to its original temperature.

I hear her soft footsteps approach the bench as she takes a seat beside me. She still carries the smell of the salty air of our district and I can't help but smile at the thought of home.  
I open my eyes and see that she is staring at me, her cheeks flushed red. With anger? No, embarrassment. That's when I realise that she probably isn't used to topless men being so close to her, and I can't help but let her embarrassment ammuse me.  
"Come to shout at me again?" I ask while closing my eyes and resting my head back on the bench.  
"I came to apologise, but if you're going to be like this it doesn't matter." She gets up to leave, I grab her wrist to stop her and pull her back down beside me.  
"You don't have to apologise Annie, I'd be angry if my mentor left during training time too. A hug to apologise?" The last request takes her by surprise, but it's the only way I can get her close enough to tell her everything without the chance of being overhead by the Capitol. I'm sure the balcony has cameras but her mass of curls should be enough to hide the movement of my mouth. She leans in and I wrap my arms around her. I pull her close and drop my voice, whispering quickly into her ear "It wasn't my choice to leave, alright? President Snow makes me please these people, but in turn I get them as sponsors for you guys. My reputation is a product of the Capitol – I'm a product of the Capitol." I feel her body tense in my arms as I pull away. She looks at me with tears in her eyes.  
"I really am sorry, Finnick. For everything." She removes her arm from around my back and makes her way off the balcony – leaving me alone with my problems.

It's not until after Annie leaves that I realise she is the only person, except Mags and President Snow, that knows my biggest secret. The women who pay me with their sponsorship and secrets don't know I only accept their payment and bodies because Snow makes me.  
And then I start to feel sick again because I realise I never even asked Annie why she was up at this time. I was, as always, too concerned with myself to think about anyone else. Yet Annie shed tears because she felt sorry for me, she apoligised for something that wasn't her fault. I really am disgusting, she was right.


End file.
